


Secrets, Secrets

by Goodluckdetective (scorpiontales)



Series: Charlie Verse! [15]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Original Character(s), Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 05:17:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6225472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiontales/pseuds/Goodluckdetective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Charlie grows up, Locus hopes she’ll be a medic. A teacher. Maybe a diplomat like Junior.</p><p>Charlie has always been too much like her Father. </p><p>Or where Charlie has been lying about her job and Locus gets a rude awakening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secrets, Secrets

In the beginning, it starts with parol.

Well, as close as Locus can get to it.

“You do what we tell you.” That’s what the board says, the citizens of Chorus as grey and wrinkled as he has become over the years. They eye him with a wariness he rightfully deserves. “Fully sanctioned arrests and missions to capture those who wish to harm this planet. We will be able to track your movements fully. Time between missions will be entirely spent in prison; no breaks, no excursions. You break the rules and you are never allowed such an opportunity again. You run, you will be killed on sight. Your only reward for accepting this offer is the knowledge you are protecting a planet you once conspired to destroy. Are we clear?”

“Absolutely.” It’s a very simple offer.  Search. Destroy. Come back. It’s almost insulting that they’ve felt the need to embellish the basic rules so much. Then again, he can’t blame them; they’ll need to cover their ass if this goes wrong

They don’t need to worry. Locus has no intention of running.

“Then do you accept our offer or not?”

Locus looks down at his hands. They’re worn, but years in prison have not made them any less lethal. For so many years, they have been a reminder of all he has done wrong in his life, how many he has hurt, how many he has ruined. Perhaps, with this chance, he can make them worthy of something more.

It is worth an attempt. At least for his daughter’s sake.

Locus meets the judge in the eye.

“When do I start?”

* * *

“They offered you what?”

Charlie looks shocked on the other side of the screen of the monitor they’ve allowed him, eyes wide, mouth halfway open. She looks to be at her desk in the nice apartment she bought three years ago, the one she got after the Academy when she was halfway on her way to being a medic. She’s almost done with her program as of now, finishing rotation she tells him as of late, and while Locus doesn’t say it out loud, he couldn’t be prouder.

He has caused so much damage to this world. It is fitting his child should try to heal it.

He explains it to her again, making sure to be clear with the terms. Charlie pays close attention, her frown growing larger as he gets further into his now signed agreement. When he finishes going over the rules should he escape, his daughter takes a deep breath.

“Are you sure this is wise?” He can hear the worry leak through her voice. “You are not young anymore, Father. You could be injured.”

Locus figured this complaint would head his way. He looks her right in the eye before replying. Hopes she gets this, just like she understood why he had to stay in prison, why he had to give himself up.

“This is more important.”

And with that Charlie relents.

They speak little more of the matter for the rest of the conversation, mostly small talk filling the time. Charlie discusses her relationship with her girlfriend (she has a new job as head reporter), her recent discussions with Junior (now a proper ambassador for their people) and Carolina’s attempts to forestall retirement from her current job in the police department as much as possible. At the end of it, Locus barely has the time to stop her before she signs off.

“Charlie,” he says, voice low, serious. “Stay safe. For me.”

How fast Charlie disconnects from the conversation should had been his first clue.

* * *

This is how the lie ends; a job on a ship swarming with those looking to destroy the planet he once targeted himself.

Getting into the ship is easy, and fighting those who inhabit it is easier. Locus is no longer a young man, his daughter was right about that, but he is still a skilled one, and for that, these young mercs have nothing to really fight him with besides words and the occasional lucky shot.

After taking out and tying up a dozen targets below the ship’s main deck, he turns the corner of the main hall, knife in hand. There's another presence here seems to have the same target as he does, but that doesn’t mean they’re not a threat. There are three downed mercenaries in this room, and as he walks by them, he can tell whatever killed them was both fast and effective. They didn’t linger. Got the job done and left.

They didn’t seem to kill them needlessly, he notices, given the bent angle to their bodies. Whoever fought these men killed them because they had no choice. It is a slight comfort; someone looking to arrest first is likely to be an ally rather than a hazard.

He turns another corner, ducking into a hall. The room on the other side of it is terribly lit like the rest of the building, but he can make out those in it with his visor. Two men. Armed. Hostile. Easy enough to incapacitate with a good throw. He lifts the knife.

A blur of black knocks into both men straight on before he can even throw.

Locus lowers his weapon. So there’s the other force at play. They’re out of his line of sight now, fighting the men given the noise, but whoever they are they’re big. And effective, given how two rifles go flying.

“Aw fuck,” a gunshot. Locus thinks they might have gotten his possible ally before he sees a pistol being thrown as well, shortly followed by the merc who was likely holding it. The man hits the wall at full force, and when he goes down, Locus has no doubt he isn’t getting up anytime soon. He takes another step forward.

There’s a grunt, something pitched too odd to be human vocal cords. Locus places it at once: Sangheili. It’s unexpected, they usually don’t mess in the affairs of humans, but he’s thankful for it; at least he speaks the language. He takes another step forward, hoping for stealth.

There is a buzz.  A buzz Locus recognizes. A glow of light shortly follows it, a whitish blue.

Locus freezes. A key of power? Here? He thought there were only two. Lavernius Tucker’s and his own, which has been Charlie’s since-

 _“Where are the weapons?_ ” Someone says in Sangheili and Locus is almost positive he is hallucinating because there is absolutely no way, she is a medic, not a soldier, never a soldier, never like him.

“Like I’d tell you, fuckward.” Locus almost rushes towards the end of the hall, stealth almost forgotten. He almost reaches the end of it before the alien speaks once more.

“Unfortunate.” There is no denying it then, even before he turns the corner. The sight of black and green armor, his colors, family colors, just cements it.

His daughter is no medic. But she is a damn good liar.  

She’s got the laser sword out, the same one he gave her but never really wanted her to have to used. It’s being used as a light source at the moment, his daughter’s grip firm on her captive’s throat, but the glow makes him uneasy all the same. He can’t see her face, her mask keeps it out of sight, but he can imagine the look of victory she has there, just like when she was five and solved a great puzzle.

Only now the puzzle is a string of murders and losing means a bullet in between the eyes.

“Charlie Carolina Tucker!”

He doesn’t realize he’s yelled until his daughter freezes, her hand around the sword loosening just enough for him to notice, but not enough for her to drop it.

Part of Locus, the part that isn’t malfunctioning, knows that she will give him shit later for using the full name on her official documents, but that part is far too buried over the internal screaming to make its thoughts known. The merc she has trapped freezes, and Locus hopes he stays that way for his own good. She turns to look at him far too slow for his liking, and he hears her take a deep breath.

“Hello, Father,” She says, like this is one of her visits back home. Like she isn’t in a war zone. “I thought your missions were on the other side of the quadrant.”

“I thought your missions were in medical service!” He sounds hysterical, not that he can bring himself to care. Medical service, that was what she was suppose to be doing. Stitching people together, not ripping them apart. Out of harm’s way.

“I might have lied.” She sounds so much like Agent Carolina then that Locus knows Charlie hasn’t lied to everyone about this charade, Agent Carolina had to know, she had to, Locus trusted her with his daughter and she sent her off into a war zone. “Now if we could stall this conversation until after this I would-”

“You have been getting shot at,” Locus hisses. He doesn’t want to picture it, but the images come anyway; Charlie dodging bullets, Charlie barely avoiding hits to the head, Charlie bleeding, Charlie gone. He wants to vomit. Or tear someone apart.

“Only every once in awhile.”

It is not the answer Locus is looking for. “So you have been getting shot at?!”

“Father, please.” Like this is some game. Like he is overreacting.

There is a gunshot from the left corner of the room. Locus ducks, thinking it is aimed at him, and he almost flinches when he notices a bullet bury itself in the wall over his daughter’s head as she ducks in tandem. Without even thinking, like he’s back years ago, he scans the rafters for a shooter and pulls the trigger of his pistol when he sees a reflection off a visor.

There is a cut off scream. Locus relishes every second of it.

He looks back at Charlie, his daughter, his daughter who almost took a bullet to the head. She has a knife out, her arm lowering it as he shakes in his boots. He’s not sure if he’s furious or terrified.

“The reports didn’t lie,” she says, impressed. “Your aim is spectacular.”

“You are grounded.” It seems to be the best response. Charlie sighs.

“Father, I am twenty five.”

Twenty five and getting shot at, Locus thinks. Not that age really matters in this situation; no matter how old Charlie gets, Locus will never be alright with her getting shot at.

“And you are grounded.”

Charlie looks like she’s tempted to hash this out when the merc she’s got by the throat seems to rally from his fear soaked stupor to chime in. He looks at Locus for a long moment, then at Charlie.

“He’s your father. The Locus?”

Locus hopes the merc can feel his glare. The Locus? He’s a man, not a legend.

“Shut up,” he says, the same time Charlie utters the phrase. They even have the same tone.

The man doesn’t seem to get it. He looks a mix of delighted and stupefied. “Holy shit.” He looks up towards the rathers. “Guys? Can you hear me? You know Locus? The famous merc! He’s an alien fuck-”

If Locus was less furious, he would be impressed with how quickly Charlie drops her sword to punch him in the nose.

“Nice arm,” Locus says, walking towards her. A smile appears on Charlie’s face.

“Thank you, Father.”

“You are still grounded.”

Charlie’s groan can be heard throughout the ship.

* * *

“Why?” Locus asks after everything is said and done, when the enemy is gone and he is back in his cell with his daughter as his only visitor. Why this? Why the path he chose? Why violence and fists instead of something else?

Charlie takes a long time to answer from her seat in the visitor’s chair.

“I am an adept fighter. I always have been. And since I was young, you have made it very clear that I was allowed to keep that talent as a hobby and nothing more. That I could have kept my abilities to myself,” she starts. “And done something else as an occupation. But to do so would be to deny helping the world around me. To stay “safe” would mean potentially letting others suffer. And in my mind,” Charlie just gives him her version of a smile. “This is more important.”

And in that moment, despite his desperate wish for his daughter to leave the armor behind and take up something else instead, Locus has never been more proud.


End file.
